


studio 47

by Miss_Nightmare



Category: Bring Me The Horizon, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Koli, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Nightmare/pseuds/Miss_Nightmare
Summary: “You’re not tired, you’ve had nearly six cups of coffee,” he replies, matter-of-factly. Kellin shifts on the couch and inches closer to Oli. He can smell cologne on him - fuck, is it vanilla? It must be perfume, then. “I think I know what it is,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.Oli swallows; he’s still staring at the floor.“Yeah?” Oli says quietly.





	studio 47

Kellin Quinn likes it rough.

At least that’s what he had told Oli six years ago, behind two tour buses and a garbage can that smelt like a dead raccoon. 

It wasn’t the most romantic thing ever, and it’s probably kind of weird that Oli still remembers the date he had said those words (August 2nd, sometime between 5 and 6 PM), but Oli liked it.

He also liked thinking about it, a lot. 

He hadn’t been able to take advantage of it, however, since Bring Me The Horizon left the tour soon after, and they had no reason to travel to see each other and, to be honest, they had lost contact. Oli hadn’t wanted to stop talking to Kellin, he just felt wrong for texting him or even messaging him on Twitter while he was still married to Hannah. Making any sort of contact with him just felt damning in itself. There was something so seductive about him, something in the way he holds himself, maybe. It felt like everything Kellin did Oli was attracted to, and he just couldn’t put himself in the situation where he would fall for it. 

They had never done anything on the tour itself, nothing more than light teasing. They bickered more than anything, but there was a subtle undertone to it that seemed to be flirting. But there was that one time that Kellin put his hand on his thigh. That could’ve been taken a lot of ways, though, he guesses. Oli remembers the touch like it was yesterday, the way he could almost feel Kellin’s palm against his skin because his jeans were soaked from sweat and there was so much contact he felt like he might burst. It had only lasted a moment, though, before Jesse had called Kellin over to go grab lunch.

Stupid Jesse. Oli had never liked him before, and he certainly never liked him after that.

No one around them mentioned their interactions (which were few anyways) except Jordan, who had said something along the lines of ‘do you like that guy, you know, Kellin?’. Oli had stared at him dumbly for a moment and then flat out denied and acted disgusted that he had even suggested the possibility.

Jordan believed the lie.

Today, today is different than those days, though. For one, Oli’s not married anymore, which is a good thing, because he’s not sure he could put up with being around Kellin for long without having thoughts and letting those thoughts turn dirty and letting those dirty thoughts turn into dirty actions. And two - Kellin and him had been talking - a lot.

It started on Twitter, Kellin messaging him one day over some stupid Tweet he had made (he can’t remember what it was now). They had messaged each other like that for a while, and recently had started texting, which is like, second base when it comes to digital communication. Skyping would have been down right impossible to do without getting a hard on, so he had refused it.

Somehow this had all led up to them writing a song together. It had been Kellin’s idea and Oli had been all too willing to oblige. They’re meeting today to work on it together, Oli and Kellin for a couple of hours to get the basic structure down, and the rest of them to come later to complete it.

Oli had written some lyrics already, and he has them scribbled on the back of a takeout receipt, which is now stuffed in his jacket pocket. His palms are clammy as steps out of his rental car and up towards the recording studio. It’s near dark, the last bits of the sunset are showing over the horizon. The lights to the recording studio sign flick on overhead as he walks underneath them; “studio 47”.

He reminds himself that the meeting is strictly business as he walks down the long hallway. The floor is carpeted a dark maroon that he for some reason finds himself staring at as he stops at the second door down (Kellin had given him directions via text earlier).

He knocks, thinking it’s the polite thing to do, after all. He could be naked in there or something, you never know. Oli would actually like that, very much.

“Coming!” someone replies from inside the room. Moments later, the door swings open and there he is - in all his beautiful blonde glory. Kellin stands there, casual as ever in tight jeans and a Foo Fighters shirt. His hair is longer since the last time he saw him, Oli thinks. “Long time no see, man!”

Before Oli can take the time to come up with a response that doesn’t sound creepy or insane, Kellin is wrapping him in a tight hug. A hug that hits in all the right places.

Fuck, he’s doomed.

“Right, yeah,” is Oli’s delayed response. He mentally slaps himself. “So, I brought some ideas to start with,” he says.

Kellin smiles, this big stupid grin that makes Oli’s heart do an equally stupid backflip, and moves aside so Oli can come into the room.

“I’ve got some ideas I’ve been working with too,” he says, sitting down on the leather couch on the opposite side of the room. “I was thinking that maybe I do most of the clean vocals and you come in on the harder parts?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah - I was thinking that too. Although maybe I could get you to scream some, I mean you - you know what I mean,” he says, backtracking and probably blushing. 

Kellin smirks, the bastard.

“We’ll just have to see if you can make me scream. Ready to start writing this thing?"

*

Five hours and six coffees later (There is a coffee machine down the hall), they are halfway through writing a decent song. It’s catchy and rough on the edges, a style they had both seemed to adopt recently.

“I think the chorus needs a little tweaking,” Kellin muses, taking a quick drink and setting the cup down on the coffee table in front of them. There are papers scattered everywhere, thrown about without a care, but they can clean up afterwards. Kellin leans over to grab one of the papers, and Oli gets a glimpse of skin when his shirt rides up. It’s only half an inch or so, but it makes Oli’s breath catch.

He rubs his palms on his jeans and tells himself to chill the hell out.

Kellin sits back down, shoving the paper towards Oli. He takes it, and watches as Kellin points to some sloppy handwriting that Oli had done earlier, in between coffee number two and three.

“See, I just don’t like how we repeat that line twice. I think we need to just change it a tad on the second line even if it’s just one word. What do you think?”

“Yeah, totally agree,” Oli says, although he has no suggestion what to put there otherwise. His mind has been reeling since seeing his skin.

“Hm, maybe,” Kellin muses, taking the paper back and taking a pen to it, leaning over once again to use the table to write on. The strip of skin shows again, and Oli has to stop himself from reaching out and touching. He wants to so badly, to run his fingertips along the younger man’s flesh, to feel his warmth. It’s not just Kellin’s attractiveness that drives him insane, while that is a part of it, there’s something more to it. He can’t even begin to explain it because he can’t. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone, they would argue he hadn’t been around him enough to be able to know if he likes him or not. Oli disagrees. He’s been around him long enough and he knows that every damn second he’s been with him he feels like he’s a teenager again, excited and breathless, unable to function correctly when he’s around.. Shit. He hasn’t felt like that about anyone for years. 

He doesn’t believe in soulmates or anything, but if they do exist then Kellin would be his.

“I wrote some ideas down,” Kellin says, leaning back onto the couch. “I don’t know about you, but I need a break. I know the guys will be here in an hour, but I just - gotta let the thoughts brew for a while, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah. Can only look at a song for so long until you start to go bloody insane. Who’s idea was it, anyways, to write and record the damn thing in two days?” 

Kellin laughs.

“One of the managers, how the hell should I know - it’s always like this.” He hands Oli his coffee and sits with his own. “So how’ve you been? Everything alright with you? I know you and Hannah broke it off a while back, you doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now.” 

This is a lie.

“You seem different though. Tonight, I mean. Over Twitter and everything you seemed fine, but you seem so closed off and stuff right now. It’s not the hair, is it? I really did hope you would like it.”

Oli not only fumbles over his words, but his thoughts as well. Is he flirting? Is he implying something? Or maybe it’s just a joke? A test, maybe - to see if Oli is interested.

“Well, fuck, ‘course I like it. Looks great on you,” he replies, and it doesn’t come out as smoothly as he would’ve liked. Fuck - he’s usually so much better at flirting than this, but it’s like all of his brain cells have evacuated the building. He’d like to have a word with them when they return, whenever that happens to be.

“Then why won’t you talk to me?” He asks.

“Just tired,” he shrugs, averting his gaze from Kellin’s. He puts his coffee cup down and stares at the floor.

“You’re not tired, you’ve had nearly six cups of coffee,” he replies, matter-of-factly. Kellin shifts on the couch and inches closer to Oli. He can smell cologne on him - fuck, is it vanilla? It must be perfume, then. “I think I know what it is,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Oli swallows; he’s still staring at the floor.

“Yeah?” Oli says quietly. 

“Yeah,” he says, and he moves even closer now, putting a hand on Oli’s thigh and whispering in his ear, “You want me, don’t you?”

Oli can’t speak. Hell, he can barely move, so he simply nods in reply. In one swift motion, Kellin is on top of him, one leg on either side of his hips. Oli looks up at him, and that bastard is smiling, wide and pretty, and he brings his lips down to Oli’s.

It feels like - a sunrise on a winter’s morning . That first beam of warmth hitting your skin, when you’ve been shivering for hours, and then it’s there. Welcoming you, inviting you, begging you to stay forever in it’s presence.

Oli wants to stay forever in Kellin’s presence.

He tastes like coffee. It’s soft at first, gentle - as if to test the waters, make sure Oli is ok with it. Oli encourages him by settling his hands on his hips. Kellin makes a noise into the kiss, shifting his hips on Oli’s lap. Oli kisses him back once he regains himself, realizing that this is really happening. 

He thinks back those long years ago and wonders… Wonders if he meant it.

“Did you mean it?” Oli gasps in between kisses. Kellin is growing feistier, kissing quicker, harder, sloppier, and with passion.

“Mean what?” he asks, diverting his lips down Oli’s jaw, going lower down his neck, pressing kisses on any exposed skin he can get to.

“You like it rough, years ago, you said-“

“Yes,” he says, cutting Oli off with a needy kiss. “As hard as you want to with me. Wanted it since the moment I saw you.”

Oli grins into the kiss. He shoves a hand into Kellin’s hair, gripping and tilting his head back, pulling away those pretty lips and enjoying the way they shine with a mixture of their saliva.

“You better fuckin’ take it, then,” he growls, before bringing Kellin back down, kissing him again, more forceful this time. They rock into each other like their lives depended on it, but it’s not even close to enough. Kellin breaks the kiss for long enough to take his shirt off, throwing it across the room carelessly. He then works on attempting to get Oli’s jacket off. He tries at first, but Oli starts struggling with the sleeve and his hand gets stuck in it, and Kellin starts giggling.

“It’s fucking stuck!” Kellin laughs, trying to tug it off him.

Oli playfully glares at him.

“Get off me so I can stand up, damn this jacket,” he says, Kellin assisting him as soon as he stands. The jacket gets tossed to the side. Oli doesn’t bother with his shirt, the temptation to shove Kellin up against the wall proving itself too strong to resist any longer. The force of it causes a nearby plaque to fall to the floor, which thankfully doesn’t break.

“Ow, that hurt,” Kellin comments, Oli bites down on his neck.

“It was supposed to,” he replies, breath hot on his skin. There are tattoos, so many to explore and taste, Oli doesn’t know where to start. He tears his mouth away to give his full attention to peeling off Kellin’s skin tight jeans. “How do you even get these things on in the morning?” He asks, attempting to tug them down, but having no luck.

“Fuck it, give me a second,” Kellin says, toeing his shoes off and taking the jeans off himself.

He’s wearing tight underwear as well, his cock clearly hard and making an outline that Oli can’t wait to get his hands on. Oli goes ahead and removes his own clothes as well, his jeans sliding off much easier than Kellin’s.

Down to both of their undergarments, Kellin starts kissing again, hot and needy. Oli moans into the kiss. He can’t believe it’s happening still. 

“On your knees,” he says, and Kellin sinks down instantly, as if he had been waiting to be given permission for years, as if it was the only thing he’s ever wanted to do. He looks so beautiful here, more beautiful than Oli had ever imagined. When he’s right on the verge of climax, thinking of Kellin in front of him like this, eyes wide, mouth open, ready, accepting. 

It’s all that but more.

Maybe he’s overthinking things, complicating and making something out of nothing. But it’s more than just sex to him. While yes, that’s exactly what it is, there’s also a connection that he feels between them that he just can’t explain, that he can only hope Kellin feels the same as he’s yanking down Oli’s boxers, freeing his erect cock and taking him in… Oh.

It's filthy and beautiful at the same time, the way Kellin closes his eyes in concentration, the way he moans as he does it. His hands are on the back of Oli’s thighs, running up and down them like a lover’s touch. God, it’s exactly what Oli thought would happen if they were ever left alone. He could always feel it, the sparks flying between them when they were near each other.

Oli supports himself by leaning against the wall, God only knows how he would be able to stand otherwise.

He puts a hand in Kellin’s hair, gripping it and guiding him, forcing him to go at the pace he wants. Kellin gives no resistance, in fact the opposite, moaning as Oli’s grip tightens in his hair. He pulls him off his cock momentarily, Kellin coughing a bit, a mixture of spit and precome dripping off his chin.

“You okay?” Oli asks, his stomach twisting with worry that he had gone too hard.

“Hell yeah,” he replies, quickly returning his attention to Oli’s cock. He wraps a hand around the base, stroking it slowly while flicking his tongue around the head. He opens his mouth, slowly swallowing. He does it better than any porn star Oli's ever seen. Oli’s seeing stars, he tries to focus on Kellin, but he’s already close, moaning involuntarily.

“Up, stop,” he says, and Kellin grins as he gets to his feet. Oli spins him around so that he’s facing the wall and tugs Kellin’s boxers down, exposing his pretty ass, before stopping short. “Fuck, I don’t have any lube or condoms-“ Oli starts to say, but Kellin interrupts him.

“My jeans, left pocket,” he says, kicking his boxers off the rest of the way. Oli gets them and fishes them out.

Oli’s popping open the bottle of lube when he realizes that it’s brand new. Kellin was waiting for this.

Fuck.

“Tell me if anything hurts,” Oli says before using his lube covered fingers to tease his entrance. His hands are shaking as shoves one finger in, Kellin willingly pressing himself back against his hand.

“Don’t worry about hurting me Oli, I’m experienced,” he turns his head to say, arching his back in pleasure. Oli shoves a second finger in and he moans, pressing back again.

“You want it so badly, don’t you? Fuck, I had a feeling you were a god damn slut,” he grunts. The third finger isn’t in long before Kellin is practically begging for it.

“Please, oh, fuck, please Oli. I need to feel you, this is torture.”

Oli tears open the condom, and after rolling it on as well as a decent amount of lube he presses himself at his hole, Kellin bracing himself on the wall and Oli slides in. Kellin moans as he does, probably in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but he makes no indication that he wants Oli to stop.

“Harder,” Kellin says, and that’s all that Oli needs to hear. He slams in, Kellin crying out. He thrusts in and out, Kellin making the most obscene noises the whole time. 

He wraps a hand around Kellin’s cock, stroking his length the best he can manage while still fucking him. It’s clumsy and rough, but it evokes a moan from Kellin even still. Moments later Kellin is gasping his name, coming in hard bursts over Oli’s hand and the floor. Oli follows soon after, thrusting hard one last time, throbbing inside of him.

He pulls himself out, tearing off the condom and throwing it in the lone trash can in the room. His knees are weak, he can barely even begin to process what just happened, so he leans against the wall to regain himself somewhat.

“I don’t want to clean this mess up,” Kellin says, collapsing onto the couch, glancing around the room. “Justin is going to be pissed when he gets here if we don’t.”

“Who said I was going to help clean?” Oli says, attempting to hide a smirk.

Kellin looks at him as if he had grown a second head.

Oli laughs, “Only joking.”

“You better be, or we are defiantly not doing that again.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t say that. I am going to need that again and soon. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be good to go,” he says as he pulls his jeans back on.

“And I’m going to give it to you. Again and again,” Kellin replies, leaning forward and kissing Oli mid-dress. Oli puts his hands on the sides of Kellin’s face and gets lost in it, brushing his tongue against his.

They pull apart, breathless, and Oli’s about to kiss him again when there is a loud knocking and someone rusting the doorknob.

“KELLIN! UNLOCK THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS! MY ARMS ARE FULL OF BAND SHIT!” Someone, whom Oli assumes is Justin, screams.

“You locked it?” Oli whispers to him as they rush to reclothe themselves the rest of the way. 

“‘Course I did. I’ve wanted you for a long time, Oli,” he replies, kissing him quickly before rushing over to the door to unlock it.

It's nearly three hours before they all decide to call it done, the writing part at least. It had felt like eternity, but Oli’s proud of what it had turned out to be. They’re all exiting the building, and Kellin is the last one out of the room, walking down the hallway when Oli stops him. He turns and makes sure that everyone else has left before saying anything.

“You can have me anytime you want, you know,” Oli says, fumbling with his keys as a way to calm his nerves somewhat.

Kellin grabs his free hand and replies:

“How about now?”

**Author's Note:**

> First Koli fic in forever! In honor of them actually being FRIENDS now and TOURING together ok. Shout out to those that have shipped this OTP from the beginning back when they "hated" each other *wink wink*.
> 
> WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE, FRIENDS.
> 
> Here is what I envisioned Oli looking like in the fic: [x](https://www.instagram.com/p/BvJ2yVPHq8a/). That's the jacket that gave them so much trouble XD
> 
>   
  
☽ [Tumblr](https://misssnightmare.tumblr.com) │ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MisssNightmare) ☾


End file.
